Roderick's Purpose - Ellie St. Clair Page 0,7

in mind.

“I’m not riding with you,” she said.

“You have no choice,” he responded, impressed with her continued determination, though he tried not to let his amusement show. “You’re my prisoner, lass, not my companion, ye hear? Not to worry, Donahue won’t mind the extra weight.”

She sniffed in disagreement and outrage at his words as he laughed.

“It won’t work,” she insisted. “Your horse won’t be used to two riders, and it won’t be comfortable for either of us.”

“You can sit behind me.” He smiled roguishly. “Hold on tight.”

She let out an “oomph” when he deposited her on top of the horse. He swung up in front her, telling her to hold on. He could tell she was trying to leave as much space as possible between them, for he knew soon enough she would slide right against him.

“You’ll find yourself falling off the horse again should you stay so far back,” he said, urging the horse into a walk and leading hers behind them. The bag she had slung over her shoulder hung off the pommel, and he kept a close eye on it, knowing it held valuable cargo.

“I heard tell of a woman who was part of the Doc Malone gang,” he said, contemplatively. He had never been one for silence. “What would possess one such as you to be part of a gang of thieves, robbing people and coaches around the country? Do you not know who ye are stealing from? These people, they’re good people around here — well, for the most part, anyway. They work hard for their money and any valuables they have. Many have been saving their entire lives. And you would take it all from them — for what? Do you not have the means to make an honest living?”

She said nothing in response. As the horse moved, she had, likely against her will, slid back against him, and she clearly wasn’t happy about it. She held her head high, staring ahead of them as he led them toward the barracks.

“Fine, then,” he said. “Be silent, it does not bother me. I don’t suppose you’d like to tell me your name?”

When she remained silent, as he suspected, he continued. “All right, then. I’ll call you Susan. Nay, ye dinna look like a Susan. Perhaps… Tristana? You know it means sorrowful, and ye haven’t exactly been much fun, have you? But no. It looks like you could be fun if ye tried. Molly? It means bitter, did ye know that? I know a Molly, however, and she’s nothing of the sort. How about—”

“How in the hell do you know so much about names?” she burst out, clearly unable to hold her tongue any longer.

“My mother,” he said. “She has always loved language and the meaning behind things. She’s a wonderful woman. Jane, her name is. Jane means ‘God is gracious’, which is very fitting for my mother. Now, back to your name. Have you heard the name Jezebel? Perhaps that would be fitting. It means—”

“Gwen,” she finally ground out. “Gwendolyn, actually.”

He burst out laughing, and he could practically feel the anger radiating off of her.

“I fail to see the humor in my name,” she said, a bite to her tone. “I rather like it, actually.”

“Aye, it’s a lovely enough name, lass, but you know it means—”

“I know what it means.”

He continued on despite her apparent ill will toward him. “It means something along the lines of purity. White, holy, that sort of thing.”

“I realize that.”

“And you are not—”

She could no longer control her words as her emotions boiled over. “Can you not be silent, even for one moment?”

“Not really,” he said with a shrug, despite the fact she couldn’t actually see his face. “I’m sure my brothers have a similar feeling to you, however. There’s something about silence, though, that is typically awkward, is it not? There is so much to talk about, really, so why not take the opportunity to discuss what you’re feeling?”

“Perhaps,” she said slowly. “It would give you time to think. For clearly whenever a thought comes into your head, it simply flows out of your mouth.”

He laughed, which only seemed to agitate her further. “You sound like my family. They’ve become used to it.”

“Thankfully, I should not be around you long enough to have that opportunity,” she said, and he raised his eyebrows at her words.

“I suppose you are right,” he said and continued to chatter at her as they rode, if, for no other reason, than to keep annoying